|
|
Monday, August 11th, 2008
| |
4:14 pm - Clarity and Emergence...
|
As the ten day fast came to an end, the purpose of my journey to California became crystal clear. I did journey here to continue my path of inner healing and transformation. I did journey here to face the shadows of my past I have not yet released nor integrated. I did come here to connect to mother nature and the wisdom of my soul. My path might take me through many windy roads, but the destination is always the same. To grow through all of my experiences and to appreciate the journey.
I feel a transformation coming, the gentle stir of change. Unmistakable each time. I feel like I have been in the underworld the whole last year, descending through all the layers, deep into the abyss of my mind. Mourning the death of my New York life.
And now I am emerging, anew, reborn, with the wisdom of my shadow, slowly integrating into my being. Sometimes we need to leave the familiar behind to journey into who we truly are, into our very essence.
California is my home for right now, and it might not be forever, or even for long, but it is here that my spiritual journey continues. It is here that the path of my destiny have led me. It is here, that I rest my head.
|
|
|
| Wednesday, August 6th, 2008
| |
3:54 pm - Sacred Vanishing...
|
Strange stir of emotions, in many ways calm and balanced, but somehow unfocused. I find myself going inward, deep, deeper yet. I want to contract, removing all traces of me from the space I occupy. I want to become wind, spirit, intuition.
Fasting always allows me to get in touch with deepest parts of myself. As all the illusions vanish the purpose of my life becomes crystal clear. And this is what I asked for, clarity. In many ways I do not feel connected to California, but my roots have reached deep into its soil, taking residence within the spiritual pull of West Coast. This might never be my home, but it is already becoming a spiritual sanctuary for my further growth and transformation. I am becoming...as the many parts of me re-unite, and others, no longer needed are being let go off. I surrender to the current of my destiny, and go deeper.
I am crossing paths with familiar souls, as many new directions become visible. Where there were only walls, doors to mysterious and undiscovered parts of myself appear. I have been lost in this labyrinth of desires so many times before, and yet, each time I find myself, I loose myself. The possibility of completely knowing myself is seductive, but illusive. And so I continue to enjoy this constant process of unveiling.
And so I continue, found more days to complete another tend day fast. I want to be in nature, cradled by the mother earth, earth, watched after by the father sky. I want to be one with the universal forces that govern my existence. I want all the channels clear, and tuned in...
|
|
|
| Friday, July 18th, 2008
| |
4:46 pm - On Living Audaciously...
|
Don't tell me about the meadows of dreams, carefully sculpted visions of the future we will never inhabit. This future you speak off...it is my own. A journey of many roads colliding into a single path, a path of destiny. And perhaps I did move to California to become a woman, to come into my own, to smooth all the jagged edges of my dreams, fears and hopes and mold them into my own vivid reality. My own inner sanctum where feelings, thoughts, ideas and spirits collide. My world is a kaleidoscope off all my past experiences and inspirations, a castle of magical rooms and mysterious hallways. The freedom to roam, it comes with a price and it is my own. A soul of a gypsy is a precious gift, and the burden is not carried lightly. And yet, such soul must be nurtured and tended to, for we only have one soul...it makes us who we are. All of our actions, fears, dreams and passions are the direct manifestation of that soul...our soul. This is who we embarked on this human journey to become. Not a representation of society rules, or structures, or fears.
I vow to spend less time worrying about conforming and more time living in my essence and in my truth.
YOU ARE AN INCREDIBLE WOMAN
own it be it live it breathe it
fuck the rest
|
|
|
| Monday, July 14th, 2008
| |
12:06 pm
|
I found a huge hourglass on my desk this morning, black ash effortlessly forcing its way through a tight birth tunnel. And even though so much time has passed since my thoughts made a mark on these pages, the painful process of shedding layers continues. Through the hot and sticky streets of NYC, through the crowds of strangers, and beds of exquisite lovers, through the exploration of the most hidden corners of human sexuality, through journeying deep into myself, into the energetic current that connects us all, through lush valleys of Pennsylvania, salt flats of Nevada, and noble hills of California...into the arms of whole other existence, eco consciousness, partnership and career stability. Some of us exist peacefully, while others constantly search for something, for missing puzzle pieces, parts of ourselves that need recovering, highs and lows to shock us awake into state of inspiration.
I believe that my search for a soulmate has been indeed a search for myself. Deep inside I am a lone traveler, I am my fathers daughter. I want to drink from the fountains of life, and seek shelter under the heavens of men. I want to feel night on my breath and wind in my step. I am a gypsy, a muse, a lover, a woman of the wild. Relationships are a constant labor of love, but once so much time has passed, and so much remains unchanged, it is so hard to put aside all your aspirations and just trustingly wait. I have grown wiser over time, and perhaps more independent...and I will not love a weak man, I will not.
|
|
|
| Sunday, March 30th, 2008
| |
12:14 pm - Transformations...frustrations...life
|
As my art supplies and creative apparatuses sit stored neatly in boxes I begin to ponder the essence of inspiration. There is this familiar itch inside of me to spill open, to give birth, to make anew that which yet hasn’t been seen or transformed, or perhaps all together created. I sense the fear I am so well acquainted with, fear that stability and lack of chaos brings death of inspiration. But we are all recovering from something...I am an inspiration junkie. I love when it pumps in my veins, spreads underneath my skin, pulls me in...deeper, deeper.
I miss NY for its raw and untamed collision of energies, the complete exploitation of senses, the extremes of harsh winters, and sticky summers...summers with sweat clinging to your skin like unlubricated latex. Almost constricting, and yet liberating in that inability to find space, and therefore forcing you to surrender deeper into its grip. NY summers, fighting for fresh oxygen in crowded subway stations. Its the raw kind of survival, almost primal...and I know that my time there might of come to an end...and yet, a part of my soul will forever long.
SF is a fragile animal, it does not roar like a lioness in heat, but it doesn’t purr like a tamed and content kitten either...like Florida Keys, with its lush and ripe sunsets, waiting to be bitten into, juicy and intoxicating. SF sits suspended in perpetual mystery of dusk, it waits. Everything waits, the warmth to spread through the hungry skin, the cold to penetrate through all the defenses, demanding and unforgiving, the fog to unravel and capture or sink deep into the ground, and disappear. "Yes, I am wonderful today, yes the weather is beautiful...can I get my cup of tea now?" And so I am learning to wait with it...for my new roots to sink deep into the ground, for goosbumps to finally disappear, for friendships to bear fruit, for a place called home to rest my head in, for...inspiration to surface. Suspended in waiting, driven by new desire for stability and career, I find a space of content for a moment. I dust off my high heels and pencil skirts, and once again I remember that there are some inspirations that never die. And slowly, in the most unexpected of places, my fingertips find the passion that once drove my whole being...passion to write.
|
|
|
| Monday, July 2nd, 2007
| |
1:49 pm - A Soulmate
|
When you meet your soulmate there is an electric charge that shoots through your body like a bolt of lightning, a cellular recognition making you aware of all the possibilities...an instant mending of past, present and future. In that very moment you became aware of all the paths that have led to this very point in your destiny. A sacred kind of knowing with the power to dissolve all fears and doubts.
A connection of souls is an intricate process of blending and weaving, a fire journey devoid of all ego, a state of expanded sensitivity and acute receptivity.
“A soulmate is someone who has locks that fit our keys, and keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and not for who we’re pretending to be. Each unveils the best part of the other. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we’re safe in our own paradise. Our soulmate is someone who shares our deepest longings, our sense of direction. When we’re two balloons, and together our direction is up, chances are we’ve found the right person. Our soulmate is the one who makes life come to life.” Richard Bach
|
|
|
| Sunday, March 18th, 2007
| |
12:06 pm
|
|
His touch is always delicate, smooth like milk...but it is not about his touch at all. It is about the effect my touch has on him. He shivers, gasping for breath, his body weakens and lets go of all defenses. I begin to glide through his skin, first with fingertips, then with nails, gently caressing every muscle. His stomach is flat, smooth, his skin tightly stretched around his abdomen...he is perfect. I watch his eyes roll back, and his lips part ever so slightly. I tell him to breathe, to feel it in his veins, in his blood. He is like me...a lover of pleasures. And when he collides with me, it is to feel the waves of pleasure rising and falling, nothing more and nothing less. And once again I let him in...I like his youth, his innocence, his beauty and his delicate desire.
|
|
|
| Saturday, March 17th, 2007
| |
2:01 pm
|
Maybe it has been too long since I have spilled open, unzipped my own skin and watched all my insides bleed out. The last year and a half has been a roller coaster ride of ups and down...the greatest highs and the lowest lows...and yet, on the surface everything always seems so calm. I hide my feelings so well.
This has been the longest I have ever been single...and at times when I stop, I realize that I am living the life that I have always wanted. I am in NYC, where inspiration awaits on every corner, where world seems to be at my fingertips. And I drink of it, of art and music, of restaurants and bars, of streets crowded with strangers, subway stations and late night yellow cab trips over Manhattan Bridge. Some get lost in this city, but for me, some get swallowed alive...but for me, it is a home, a warm nest of abandon. It feeds me, it inspires me...it makes me, breaks me and remakes me anew. I cross paths with so many people everyday. Some of us collide into each other, violently or tenderly...sometimes we stay for a bit, sometimes we depart too soon, or not soon enough.
Some say that you need to grow a thick skin to live here, but I haven't...almost nine years and I have not, will not. I might be too damn sensitive for this city, but I want to be touched, to the very core...I want to feel my own heart through the protection of my ribcage. I let this city swallow me alive, I surrender to its moods, its rough currents. Each winter I simply survive, but with each spring I come alive, I am seduced. I open my heart as easily as I did when I was young. I might of collected many scars over the years, but I am still a hopeless romantic. I love...and it is that love that gives me hope, that separates me from all the rest.
|
|
|
| |
11:19 am - Duality of Desire
|
She waits for his phone call for days. There is this dull ache in her heart, she wants to be tougher, she wants to grow thicker skin, she screams "why are you so damn sensitive?" to her own reflection in the mirror. She is all water, all emotion. She should know better than to wear her heart on her sleeve, but that is who she is..she refuses to become jaded, or cold. She loves..simply, truly, wholeheartedly and completely.
She is not your average girl, there is hunger in her soul and longing in her eyes. She is looking for an experience, which will transform and inspire..a great love, and blind lust, intertwined together. When you collide with her, she will ask you to shed all your inhibitions, and yet she wants more than one night of passion. She is looking for a journey, and a partner in crime.
She had her heart broken plenty of times, and she has broken many hearts. She has shared the bed of her body with many lovers, and yet each one of them was one of a kind and sacred to her. You do not just pass through her unnoticed, you make a mark upon her very soul..and when she invites you in, she holds nothing back.
She is calm, but if you look closer, you might notice that she is at war with herself. The duality of her desire is sinking its sharp teeth into her flesh. There are casualties, as her heart becomes a battleground. Her greatest love and her darkest lust compete for the crown of fools, a throne from which one will rule. But there will be no winners..She will always long for both.
She meets a stranger late at night, and the familiar lust awakens..and begins to take possession of her senses. She looks into his eyes, and there it is. That darkness that draws her in, that fascinates, that makes her hungry. And he pulls her in...and she wants to experience him.
Love and lust..she must have both.
|
|
|
| Thursday, March 15th, 2007
| |
1:35 pm - Lust
|
He brings the mike closer to this lips and begins to sing "Just give me a pain that I am used to". I inhale deeply, as if to suck all of the sound through my nostrils. My eyes glaze over...my body is present, but my mind is drifting in some unknown sea. As he opens the door to a taxicab for me later that night, he says to a cab driver "Take her around the block few times, she is in love" I lean closer and kiss him tenderly on the cheek. It is nights like this one that I can see myself in his eyes.
"Hop on and roll your sleeve up baby girl". I watch his dreadlocks caress his face as he leans over to inspect my veins. He knows me by a number, but he remembers me from eight months ago. "Where are your pigtails?", he asks. His fingertips feel cool on my inner arm. His touch is professional, yet delicate...it sends shivers up my spine. He pierces my vein with immaculate precision and I watch the blood fill the little glass vile. He always makes me thirsty.
"Relationships are difficult", I say, as I take another sip of my mojito. He shakes his head in response, and for a moment his thoughts drift. I tell him that nobody understands me the way he does. I might be unpredictable even to myself, but not to him, never to him. He knows me better than I know myself...a bare artist's soul to a bare artist's soul. And I spill open for him, without holding anything back.
He leans closer and blows the white smoke into my mouth. I suck it deep into my lungs, and I feel my body go slightly numb. The air is crisp and slightly cold, but I can sense the promise of spring. It won't be long now. The movie theater is empty when we first walk in. I admire the beautiful new artwork on his fingertips, as I fight the urge to take them into my mouth one by one and suck until his eyes roll back.
|
|
|
| Monday, February 26th, 2007
| |
3:14 pm - Note on a Napkin
|
I found a napkin as I was cleaning today...a napkin which I am going to let go off...along with so many other things I have let go of...things which reminded me of you...my bravest love and my darkest fall.
"When I fall into you it is often like drowning. A momentary lapse of reason, a voluntary abandon of all intellect. When I fall into you it is like sinking into dream like state of temporary loss of consciousness. We both know the danger, we are aware of the consequences...and yet neither of us pulls back for more than a moment. And yet...there is still so much more meaning in our silences. Do you know that I know...do you dare to scratch the surface of desire?"
To my Fly By Night Gemini...which one day did not find his way back.
|
|
|
| Friday, February 16th, 2007
| |
2:22 pm - Living Fearlessly...
|
"The feminine struggles to find love, the Masculine struggles to find freedom" David Daida
Sometimes there are late night conversations that not only inspire, but also awaken us to a new understanding, conversations which reach deep into our core and reflect our true being. We can disclose our innermost nature, we crack open, spill open and crawl into each other, past the flesh and blood, past the layers of muscle and bone…past the heart, and even the mind…into the very essence of the soul. And when we depart from those conversations, it is with a sense of being completed on the most intimate level…for we have been witnessed for who we really are.
And perhaps as I grow and mature, I see the world around me from a whole different perspective. I learn to forgive and open to love, I no longer cling or obsess…I simply flow. And it is that flow that has been revealing more and more of my own feminine essence. There are layers to me, a complexity that longs to not only be understood, but sensed, felt and shared by my intimate partner.
When I light candles and burn essential oils, it is to be seduced by the language of sensuality. In a golden light, shadows dance, lovers embrace…fingertips begin to explore the geography of flesh. Inch by inch, layer by layer. How many ways are there to caress…from feather light gliding of lips, the fingertips trace the contour of my hips, the cold surface of the wall against my back, our skin, melting, blending…the heat, building, raising, the fire, the lust, the passion. I know that I am searching for a fellow sensualist, for I am made up of layers and layers of sensitivity. I sense…and I desire to be sensed, in a way that goes beyond words and needs for explanations, in a way that is like second nature to a lover. I am seduced by darkness and by light, by the sacred and the profane. I want to surrender to love, I want to be opened completely, without holding anything back. I want to push boundaries, explore the places where the edges of humanity begin to fray. I want to be the hunter and the pray, I want to experience being ravaged, and I want to seduce, own, empty, poses and fill to the brim. Perhaps it is the exploration of the extremes, for that is where I feel naked, that is where I feel painfully, passionately alive.
And maybe it is because we are artists, we sense with a tentacle like precision what is around us, and we explore our curiosities, and hungers…and we dig deeper, because we want to poses and be possessed by a perfect inspiration, by a perfect lover, by a perfect passion. And when we collide during those late night conversations, it is as if we have returned from the hunt, and we share our trials and our tribulations while our souls extend to stroke each other. And we feel understood…
Sometimes I think that living with such sensitivity is a burden, because I cannot be satisfied with what is on the surface. I want the mystery, the intensity of each experience to penetrate me to the very core. I don't want ordinary, I want extraordinary, sacred, that which is invisible to the eye. I am no longer willing to settle, or accept substitutions…I am only willing to live fearlessly and true to my nature.
|
|
|
| |
2:21 pm - Fire Journey
|
ll the great experiences, life's most precious lessons...all the roads less traveled, the matrix of energies that unites us all on some level. The journeys interconnected, coincidences or manifested destinies as we engage and disengage from each other...so much possibility, probability, trust and beauty. And I am still searching...although it is no longer for what I haven't found, but for what I wasn't open for before...
Once you embark on a spiritual path, it changes you. Nothing ever goes back to the way it was before. Your consciousness shifts. Its almost like loss of innocence...once you cross through that threshold, you see things for what they are, and knowledge can be addictive. It is not the surface knowledge, or academic knowledge, but rather a deeper kind of knowing, intuitive wisdom. Once you experience the world on an energetic level, with all its intricacies, interconnected paths and currents...you become a part of the mystery. Something inside begins to open and expand…
And what is the path of a modern mystic, a path of a priestess without a temple, a path of a shaman without a tribe?
It's a fire journey…
|
|
|
| Sunday, January 7th, 2007
| |
11:34 am - A Path with a Heart
|
In the chaos and disorder, in the disconnection and dissatisfaction, in ecstasy and euphoria, in between the extremes of love and hate, pleasure and pain…small enough it can be easily missed is the tiny space. Once noticed and tended to, it begins to unfold…and there it is…a threshold, a place where all my dreams cross into reality, and a place where I reinvent myself, a place of creation.
In my life it has always been about shifting into that tiny space called destiny, and most of all it has been about consciously designing my own destiny, as an architect designs a new buildings. Life is pliable, made up of paths we have chosen, paths we are to choose…I believe that the only thing that is predestined for me are the lessons I need to learn in order to find “my own journey”.
Through the lives I have lived, and many lives I will live…the only one that matters is this one in this present moment. All my past is made up of stories, stories that only have meaning to me. Perhaps at times I still get lost in the pathology of my stories, of dragging out the past and dissecting it under the microscope. That is our human flaw…we think that by living in the past we can actually change it, but it only taints our present, and prevents our future from showing us the way. Ironic isn’t it?
All the roads I have taken have led me to here, to this present moment. Have I lived “A Path with a Heart?” I always wondered what would it feel like to watch my life unfold from a place of conscious intention. There are no fireworks, but I still open my mouth in awe and say “wow”. Our human potential is so magnificent, and yet time and time…we let it just slip by, unnoticed, unused and fully undiscovered. Perhaps because rather that to make amends with our stories and become the storytellers, we allow our stories to control the outcome of our destiny, and therefore we end up living those stories over and over again.
|
|
|
| Saturday, December 23rd, 2006
| |
10:42 am - Explorations of Men
|
In the last week I crossed paths with two beautiful souls...two men I could envision sharing my journey with. I always say that a connection that happens between two people who are meant to be together, however briefly, or perhaps throughout lifetimes happens on an instant. There is no time for thought, for logic...its like an energetic current shooting through the body, overloading all the circuits. Its that feeling of inner knowing, souls recognition...the first moment when eyes meet, I know. I know that we have crossed paths before, and we are meant to do so again.
C is a beautiful Latin man. He inhabits his body with such confidence and grace, a perfect mix of "macho" that western men will never understand, a raw and natural masculine energy...and in the same time there is softness to him, not weakness, but sensitivity. Perhaps because he is a fellow cancer, he can embody the ebb and flow of emotions. In our good night kiss there was fire and passion I have not experienced in years...a kind of controlled urgency. Our physical attraction was apparent through the whole night, and yet we explored the landscape of our stories...sharing journeys and experiences, weaving the tapestry. I felt the taste of his lips for days.
A is a sensitive and mysterious Italian man. He writes me letters, painting words like most beautiful pictures. Sometimes I think that perhaps he understand the inner nature of a woman, for his words spread through my mind like tantalizing whispers. And I shiver. When we speak, I get lost in his eyes, for I know that he is observing every detail...and he pulls me into the labyrinth...deeper, deeper. And I let him take the lead...
|
|
|
| Thursday, December 14th, 2006
| |
10:19 pm - A Union
|
What does it mean to unite sex and spirit? How will such union manifest in our lives...going beyond the surface pleasure of flesh to flesh...until two souls become one. Presence. I came to realize that it is all about presence. How often is it that we are actually fully and completely present during sex - body, mind and soul. How often do we stay with our partner, matching breath with breath, like raising and falling of waves, riding. There were many beautiful lovers in my life, but with most I wasn't willing to share anything more than just my body. I didn't know how to open, how to dive deeper, how to create a sacred union.
I think of my gypsy lover, and how much further I longed to go with him...but we both did what most of us do, we got lost in our own pleasure, abandoning the connection of souls. We raised too quickly, and that is how we fell, for we didn't know how to flap our wings in unison. Perhaps it was just a chemical reaction, an addiction to lust. I don't think it matters anymore. Its in the past, in the stories that I am no longer living...just keeping.
I no longer share my body with lovers who do not stay present with me. And it is a commitment....to being present and open. To allowing your lovers to touch your very soul. But each time I practice presence, I feel all the layers falling off and I experience a connection. A blending of energies, dance of bodies, union of breaths. I realize that if I am not willing to open my soul to a lover, then I shouldn't share my body with them either. One no longer exists without the other...giving and receiving, raising and falling...one.
|
|
|
| Wednesday, December 13th, 2006
| |
6:16 am - In retrospective...
|
What is it about this time of the year that makes us go back and re-evaluate our life's journey? Perhaps it is the process of slowly slipping into the Underworld, the place of self reflection, the place of emotional depth and contemplation. At times it feels as if my life is spinning around some unknown vortex...but there is certain sacred order to it, a feeling of inner knowing, of being on the right path, of watching the strings of destiny weave and untangle. Creation comes out of chaos...chaos proceeds all creation.
When I think of the last year, it unfolds like a story of shedding away layers. A story of taking charge of my own destiny...a story of such profound beauty, honesty, daring and fearlessness. And although I am no longer my story, I am of it...I am a storyteller. I am a weaver of dreams.
It all began with letting go of a love that no longer sustained me, of letting go of a fear which imprisoned be. It all began with a road trip... Sometimes it takes courage to tell our tales, because during the process of spilling open we reveal our most vulnerable selves. But there is medicine in our stories...a certain kind of freedom in speaking our truths. This has been a year of transformation, from the darkest night of my soul, to standing on top of the world screaming to the naked face of the moon " I am alive" and feeling it in every cell of my being. I embodied a free-spirited gypsy, my true nature as a woman.
I immersed myself in energy work, in Reiki and spiritual healing, in Shiatsu and Shamanism. I took responsibility for my own destiny, for I was able to understand its divine design. I was able to witness it at work within my life, and I knew that there was no other way. The path was clear before me.
I fell in love, I crossed paths with an energetic current I could not deny, a fellow gypsy soul I couldn't let pass by unnoticed and unexplored. And I dove into him without holding anything back...into his darkness, into his passion. I loved him like I haven't loved before...unconditionally, blindly, obsessively. Like absolute fire, our love burned without consciousness, and without proper tending to, it simply burned out. And his presence will forever stay with me, like an extra skin stretching around my heart. Perhaps it is only once in a lifetime we come across someone that we connect to on that level...and it does not mean that they are meant for us, or even good for us. And it does not mean that the love will be enough to sustain us, or that it will even last. The time we had together was precious...filled with memories of our ancient paths, magnetic energetic currents, the depth of our connection, like a vast and unpredictable ocean. We were dangerous together, for we were violently alive. We brought out the best and worst in each other, but as often it is a case with such profound love...it will build us up and tear us down in one breath.
I shared my body, heart and energy with many lovers, many beautiful souls. It is said that a woman takes on the energetic essence of each one of her lovers. Perhaps that is true, because I feel each and every one of them with me. A reckless artist, a beautiful dancer, a passionate writer...a gentle Tiger and a dreamy Pisces. I am drawn to the creative, yin types...lovers who have the ability sense the dance, the energy, the current of our passion. Each and everyone of them has been an integral part of my journey... In retrospective, I wish I would of written more about each and every one of them...the depth of our passion, the sacredness of our union, but perhaps words have no place in the domain of the senses.
What I learned is that my inner nature is that of a lover, a dreamer, a gypsy, a seeker...I am a free spirit. And in retrospective, this has been the most profound year of my life, for I am fully content with who I am, who I am becoming and who I once was...
|
|
|
| Wednesday, October 25th, 2006
| |
2:57 pm - Gratitude
|
Sometimes we go through life without as much as a glance or a pause at what's happening around us. We pass strangers in crowded subway stations every day, but we never notice anything. We have a goal...and in achieving that goal we often forget that in the end it is the journey that matters the most. We become desensitized...and we forget what makes flutterflies in our stomach, what makes us feel alive and filled to the brim with love. Gratitude...what lessons did you learn, what did they mean to you, in what way did they touch you, or transform you?
From Shiatsu I learned that we are all connected and depended on each other. We trust our partner, and in that trust we surrender to them. It is a beautiful dance and yin and yang, giver and receiver...
From Reiki I learned that when we connect to the universal energy, we heal and transform. There is no ego, no desire...there is only love.
From my Spiritual Journey I learned that healing is often a dirty business and that changing our life is as simple as changing the vibration of our thoughts. We are the creators of our destiny.
From Falling in Love I learned that love itself isn't enough. Some rivers cannot be crossed, and some bridges cannot be built. Nevertheless...falling in love, even if it hurts us at the end, is always a risk worth taking. And there are some people, who will stay in our heart forever...and some loves, some loves will forever claim a piece of our soul. And sometimes letting go of a lover will be the hardest thing we have ever done.
From turning 30 I learned that life gets better when we are able to understand our human design...when we have the maturity to appreciate the lessons of our past, and the journeys we have taken, and paths we traveled to get where we are today. And your friends...the true friends will travel with you every step of the way.
|
|
|
| Monday, October 23rd, 2006
| |
6:48 pm
|
Trust is the absence of fear In one form or another, we are all searching for love. Searching for a connection... a friend, a lover, a soumate. No matter how hard we might try to convince ourselves...we are not a solitary creatures. We coexist within a complicated system of inter-dependencies, a vortex of blending energies, a universe of connections...spiritual, emotional, energetic. We are a part of some great design. We are not alone in this world, ...but perhaps sometimes we are lonely. What does it mean to connect to someone on an emotional level? To let someone in without holding anything back, to let someone know us for who we are, not the masks we often choose to wear? Maybe we simply want to be understood by a kindred spirit. If love is an energetic vibration, then lust is a chemical reaction...but does it really matter? We search for "true" love as if every other love that came before was a false one. As if every lust we had experienced was only a rehersal. What if a soulmate is not someone we are destined to find, but simply someone who matches our particular vibration? Then the door of possibilities stands forever open, for there are many soulmates, many vibrations that will match our own.
There are people who cross my path, that simply take my breath away...lovers, dreamers, artists, visonaries. In a way I fall in love with all of them...but like the rest of humanity, I am searching for a one-on-one connection...a soulmate who will journey with me on this path. And it is a strange path that I have chosen, a solitary path at times. Those of us who embark on this path, do so because they were called. Trust...such a simple word, and yet we are often so full of fear.
|
|
|
| Monday, October 2nd, 2006
| |
10:14 pm
|
Sometimes great love departs as suddenly as it arrives...and once it is gone we wonder, was it "love" at all, or perhaps just lust, a reckless attraction, addiction, something that was not meant to last from the very beginning. We were dangerous together, beautifully and poetically dangerous together. We never shared the light, only darkness, only night. And lets face it, I knew it all along...it couldn't of been, I wouldn't want it to be. And yet letting it go was one of the hardest things I have ever done.
Something so deep, so profound...it leaves without any words, any explanations. We stood and watched, I didn't reach out, he didn't fight for it. Weeks stretch, we are like strangers in this city. Sometimes people depart from each others lives, because lingering is just too painful. There was never any friendship, just passion, and passion is not good for sustaining bridges. It burns too hot, too quickly...and when it burns out, there is nothing but ashes and dust. The memories of greatness.
I know that everything will be ok, I feel it. Sometimes I even catch myself smiling, and when I do, my heart opens...little by little. Perhaps there are some things we only experience once...
|
|
|
|
|
|
|